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A Morbid Fascination and Amnesia of the Soul
I dare not utter to anyone
That a subject taboo everyone shuns
Is what fascinates me no dearth
Is the morbid subject of death
Why do we die and some die willingly?
Why do some fear death and therefore live timidly?
Why does everyone have different views?
Why does everyone grieve over its news?
When we live we know we shall die one day
Death releases the imprisoned soul, they say
Yet we grieve when the body dies
When we believe the soul flies
To the Supreme Being to be recycled or absorbed
According to its karma* accounts and records
Why do people have suicidal tendency?
Why the death row prisoner gets clemency?
How does the saint leave his body at will?
When the soul roams, time stands still?
Some get blown to pieces in terrorism or war
Death is an equalizer, brings every body at par
It’s the soul evolving which brings in the differences
The last life events being its references
Why can we not connect as soul to soul consciously?
Every reincarnation the soul loses its memory
And remembers naught a single relation of last birth
And suffers through quagmire and mirth
Knowing not why it suffers so
Forgotten debts it repays though
The bank balance of karma is the toughest account
At every physical death it is recount
The good and bad that we have done
The misery, sadness, happiness and fun
And ‘tis then decided to release or reincarnate
The soul to the Supreme or to another body destinate
I cut my wrist, watch the life blood flow out
Yet I know I’ll live, no doubt
But my family grieves my demise
Knowing well the body was my souls chemise
I dream of their grief
And my feeling of relief
Yet I know there is no relief at the end of the day
Because in my next birth, no memories shall stay!!
I’ll suffer then not knowing why
And in my ignorance, sometimes have happy highs!
-Marisha
31 Oct '07
* Karma : deeds